Category Archives: Knitting

Book report: CanLit Knit

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The people (clockwise): Emma’s hands (she somehow didn’t quite make it in the shot), Allegra, Katie, Jeanne, me, and Carrie. We’re less red in person. (photo taken by Carrie’s boyfriend – thank you!)

The first CanLit Knit book/knitting club was yesterday and it was great. We basked in the sun on a rooftop patio, drank beer, knit, and talked books (and knitting, and Toronto, and, well, about lots of things.) I‘ll be writing about our book pick Better Living Through Plastic Explosives by Zsuzsi Gartner later this week, so all I will say for now is that opinion was divided.

The knitting: Emma’s socks (red), Allegra’s blanket, Katie’s top, and my sock .(Jeanne’s yarn bombing is missing because she was worried about missing her train, and I didn’t think to get one until we were all leaving).

As for the knitting, everyone but Carrie brought some (she was balanced out by Emma who brought knitting, but hadn’t read the book). Allegra was knitting a baby blanket (this one, I think); Emma was knitting socks; Katie was knitting the Cap Sleeve Lattice Top, and we were all in love with her colour choices; Jeanne was knitting her first yarn-bombing, which was destined to become a bicycle seat cover for one of Mississauga’s public art bikes; and I was knitting the leftover socks (I’m almost ready to divide for the heel of sock number two).

I think it’s fair to say that fun was had by all,  and we’re planning to do it again in September. There’s no date yet, but I think we’re going to try another short story collection, possibly by Alice Munro (maybe Too Much Happiness, her most recent collection, but we haven’t made a definitive choice). If you couldn’t make it this time but really want to come in September, let either myself or Allegra know and we’ll make sure to keep you in the loop.

Mitten surprise

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I’m thinking the only reason that Debby Bliss didn’t use that name for these mittens (she calls them “Lacy Mittens“) is because it was too close to EZ’s Baby Surprise. But really, these mittens are a surprise. Why? Well, because you knit them flat, and when you cast off you’re left with this, which to my eyes looks more like part of a baby’s dress or jacket than a mitten.

Photographed against a dark background for contrast.

It does become a mitten, though, which makes you feel very clever once you’ve figured it out. The figuring out part, however, certainly did not make me feel clever. Actually, it made me feel profoundly stupid, because I apparently can’t count to four, or read. I found this out when I started the flower lace part and one side of the mitten looked nice like this

This is right.

and the other somehow just looked like this:

Er. This is very clearly wrong.

What the heck? I would like to blame it on the pattern, which has no chart, but really, I suspect I just can’t count. Since that isn’t really a mistake you can ignore, I ripped back and then discovered something very particular about Kidsilk Haze: namely, that is very sticky and does not like being pulled out. Really doesn’t like being pulled out. In fact, some judicious snipping was required to make that operation a success.

Proper flowers on both sides, plus a flat thumb.

After that, though, it was mostly sailing, including the strange thumb construction and the subsequent seaming up.

There is meant to be a ribbon threaded through those eyelets at the wrist, but I don’t have any, so maybe you could just use your imagination? (Also imagine it blocked.)

These, like the Noro gloves, are not being knit for me, but again they were an interesting knit. Strange that the last two things I’ve knit have been deconstructed fingerless mitts, but there you go. As far as the Noro ones went, the pattern for the cuff absolutely needed to be knit flat; these ones, however, certainly did not. Honestly, if I were to knit this pattern a second time (perhaps someone I know will desperately need gauzy little gloves to wear to a high tea?) I think I’d just rewrite the pattern to knit in the round. There’s no reason not to, and I think the seam looks a little clunky running down the side like that (I’d probably leave the seam in the thumb, though, so as to keep everything as much the same as possible).

Not quite my style, but a success nonetheless.

Edited to add: I realized I hadn’t linked to the pattern in Ravelry, so when I went to find it I discovered there’s errata! Although this isn’t entirely vindication, since my problems occurred earlier in the pattern, it does resolve the problem I had later when my stitches didn’t line up with the pattern instructions (despite meticulous counting – you do not want to rip this more than necessary). I just worked around it to make it right, but still, it wasn’t me being inept, and that is very gratifying indeed.

The gauntlet

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Taking pictures of your hand is a little tricky. Sorry.

I finished the first Noro “wrister” this morning (isn’t that a bad name? I think gauntlet is both more accurate and less fetish-suggestive, but whatever). I’m not knitting these for myself, though. Instead, they are for an upcoming fun something, about which I will write at length when the time comes. Until then, be prepared for a smattering of knitting that looks unlike the stuff I would normally choose.

Anyway, I don’t have the ball band for this yarn, but it is Noro (I think Kureyon) in a pink/purple/brown/black colourway. (This is such useless information; if/when I find out what it really is, I’ll update this). The pattern is from Noro Magazine‘s fall 2012 issue, which is actually a really pretty magazine with lots of lovely pictures. The amount of entrelac is frightening, but if you can get past that, it’s kind of like InStyle, but entirely knitwear.

The wrist part looks disproportionately giant, but I assure you it looks less so when worn.

This is my first time knitting with Noro and, well, it’s a little different. It is fun to watch the yarn change colours (and this particular pattern seems to be written so that each block of colour last for about one chart repeat, which is pleasing), but it’s also a little like knitting with a dreadlock. It isn’t unpleasant (which is weird, given that description), but if you’re used to smooth sock yarns, it’s a very big change.

The striping is surprisingly hypnotizing.

 

The pattern wasn’t difficult, but it was an interesting knit because the cuff is knit flat and then you join the piece in the round to start the ribbing and knit the hand. I haven’t knit mittens like this before, so it was kind of fun to try out a new construction technique. Also, even though you can’t quite see it in the pictures, the pattern involves both a sort of faux-cable and lace, which shows up like a little surprise when you put them on.

They may not be my style now, but I know my 8-year-old self is deeply coveting them, so perhaps you know someone who would just die to add these to their back to school wardrobe.

Reminder:
CanLit Knit is this Sunday! I am reading Better Living Through Plastic Explosives by Zsuzsi Gartner right now and it is excellent and interesting and weird. I promise I will have more astute observations on Sunday. If you want to come but have not yet rsvp’d (in the comments, through e-mail, or via Twitter), please do. We’re hoping for lovely weather and an afternoon of knitting and lit chatting in the sun, so you should probably come.
More details here.

New skills

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I know, that looks like a regular swatch. Garter stitch isn’t new; stockinette isn’t new; ribbing isn’t new. The thing is, though, that I usually knit English (with the yarn held in my right hand) and this little swatch was knit Continental (with the yarn held in my left hand). In my regular life I am not ambidextrous, but I strive for more in knitting, apparently.

I should note, however, that when you learn new things it is slow. This little piece of knitting is more than an hour of work, which feels kind of pathetic. But, I did it by knitting in an entirely new way, and because of that, I’m proud of it. I’m proud of how even my tension is (even though it’s looser than I’m used to), and I’m proud I didn’t make any big mistakes, and I’m especially proud that now, three days after the class, I can still make my hands remember how to do it.

I can’t take a picture of my own hands, so, uh, here’s another picture of the swatch. Sorry.

The obvious question, here, is probably why bother. After all, I am a (mostly) proficient knitter as it is, so why do I feel the need to change it up so drastically (and if you don’t think it’s drastic, just try it – one woman got so frustrated that she gave up after 15 minutes; when you’re used to being good at something, it is really hard to accept that garter stitch might be tricky)? Well, there are two big reasons, I guess (if you leave out simple curiosity): the first is that it’s good to teach your brain new things. It’s really easy to get yourself into routines, and sometimes a little shock to that system is healthy, whether it’s taking an entirely new route home from work or learning to knit with your other hand. The other reason (the really big reason, if we’re being honest) is that I want to be able to do two-handed colour work (that is, hold one colour in each hand when working Fair Isle). I haven’t tried it yet – my swatch and I are going to spend some more time together first – but L gave me a gorgeous book of Norwegian mitten patterns for my birthday and I want to try some out.

And, yes, another shot. In case all this swatching has made you wildly curious, the yarn is Cascade 220 Heathers in colourway 9450 – it’s sort of a soft green-grey.

I also recently bought Knitting with Two Colours by Meg Swansen and Amy Detjen, so I think I’ll try swatching some stranded colour work before I dive right into fancy mittens. I know swatches are boring to look at (even when they’re surprisingly exciting to make, at least in this case), but if my colour work ones turn out, maybe I’ll post them. I’m especially interested in experimenting with yarn dominance…

Have any of you tried switching your knitting style? Who knits Continental full-time? Tips?

Buckwheat sprouts a sleeve

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It will eventually sprout two sleeves, but lets not get ahead of ourselves. I finished the back on Saturday and decided to keep the momentum going (even though I really just wanted to finish the first of the Leftover Socks, which is only a few rows from done). I cast on for the sleeve on Sunday night and immediately realized I should have thought more about it.

Please excuse the shadows – I refuse to close the blinds when it’s lovely and sunny outside.

I did, at least, read the pattern before starting. But I wish I’d read the sleeve part of the pattern before knitting the front and back, because if I had I might have decided to slip the first stitch in each row, thereby giving myself a nice selvedge edge from which to pick up the sleeve stitches. I didn’t do that, though, so I just had to pick them up through the edge of the fabric. This made for a bit of a mess when I had to repeatedly pull out the picked up stitches and start over so that there would be the same number of stitches picked up on each side, and that they would meet in the centre of the shoulder, etc.

The main thing I learned while doing this, though, is that doing short rows (to shape the shoulders) on double-pointed needles (or, “knitting skewers,” as L calls them) is really annoying. I really need to figure out the magic loop, because I have to think that this whole process would have been smoother (both in terms of ease of execution and fabric quality) if there hadn’t been so many annoying joins. Anyway, here I am, just past the short rows, where I suspect this will start to feel a lot more like a big sock and just tick right along.

I think it looks like the mouth of a big fish…

The sleeve is looking a little small right now, but I’m hoping that’s just because the stitches are all pushed together and not because it’s tiny and will thus require reknitting. Stay tuned!

Canada Day leftovers

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I know that the May 24th long weekend is Canada’s unofficial/official start to summer, but for me Canada Day weekend still feels like the real kick-off. This year, that is heightened because the Post started Summer Mondays this week, which means that not only did I get to have a full weekend off this week*, but I will for the rest of the summer too. This is excellent.

Canna lilies in the backyard.

L and I escaped Toronto for, well, Windsor, where his parents live. I didn’t get a long weekend, but we had two full days of relaxing and that was pretty good. L’s mum has a pool, and since the weather was mid-30s (Celsius), I basically alternated between soaking up the heat (like a turtle) and then jumping in for a swim. Just the best.

Hostas by the pool.

I didn’t actually feel like I got in much knitting (I’m more of a reader, poolside), but then I looked down and realized I got almost an entire sock finished, so that’s not bad. I had about two inches knit when I arrived (I opted to leave Buckwheat behind, it being a holiday and all), and now I’m pretty much at the toe. I’m calling these Leftover Socks because they’re being knit from some of what was left after I finished Colour Affection. I really liked both the colours and the wool from that project, so I’m quite pleased that there’s enough left to actually do something with.

Leftover Socks, zipping right along.

If you’re Canadian, happy belated Canada Day. If you’re in the States, happy Fourth of July! Yes, July is a strangely patriotic month.

*Because I work as a copy editor, I work on the paper the day before it goes out. That means, for the Monday paper, I work on Sunday. I get a day off to make up for it during the week, but I rarely get two days off in a row. In the summer, the Post doesn’t publish a Monday paper, meaning I now get Sundays off, thus restoring my weekend. It’s awesome.

CanLit Knit

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So, a few weeks ago, after I reviewed Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s All Wound Up and finished Colour Affection, a fellow Canadian lit enthusiast and knitter tweeted that we should have get together sometime to knit and talk about books. Now, this might be the kind of thing that one just says in an offhand way on Twitter, but it did get me to thinking. I mean, what isn’t to love about that idea? Especially, if, say, you were to get together to do this knitting and lit-chatting somewhere where you could also order a beer or some other beverage of choice. Truly, this seemed like a golden summer plan.

And so, CanLit Knit was born. Allegra and I have been emailing and we’ve worked out a time, place and book, and we’re inviting you to come join us.

The Details:
Where: The Pilot, 22 Cumberland St.
When: Sunday, July 22, at 2 p.m. (if it’s not raining, we’ll be on the patio)
The Book: Better Living Through Plastic Explosives by Zsuzsi Gartner
The Knitting: Whatever you feel like! (Also, if you happen to be more into crocheting, that’s cool too.)

We’re hoping that this will give people enough time to plan ahead and find/read the book (it’s short stories, so if you can’t quite finish, come anyway), but not so much time that it gets forgotten. Honestly, I can’t friggin’ wait. Knitting in a bar always brings the most hilarious sideways glances, and the idea of a group of people knitting in a bar makes me very happy. Also, I’ve been wanting to read Better Living Through Plastic Explosives since it was shortlisted for the Giller (Canada’s biggest fiction award), and this seems like perfect timing.

So, are you interested? If so, please let me know (either in the comments or on Twitter or via e-mail). There isn’t a limit, but we would like to know if the group will be big enough to warrant a reservation. CanLit Knit. I can’t wait!

Buttons, buttons, I must choose some buttons

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I’m still trucking along with Buckwheat (I think I’m half and inch from once again dividing for front/back, at which point I will try it on again), but I have to say, my previous enthusiasm has waned a little. Part of this can be blamed on the ripping, which is annoying, but part of it can also be attributed to the weather. It has been gorgeous here. We had a few days where the humidex took us into the low 40s (Celsius) and it felt tropical. Then, we had a great big storm and the humidity melted and it’s been humidity-free mid- to high-20s since. In short, fabulous weather. As a result, I just haven’t been sitting and knitting the way I usually do.

Anyway, I need to get re-motivated, so I’ve decided to start thinking about the buttons that will go on the shoulders of the sweater, defining the boatneck and adding a little bit of interest to what is otherwise a whole lot of stockinette. I bought some vintage buttons a while ago, but I wasn’t sure any of them clicked, so today I went to Kensington Market staple Courage My Love to check out their selection. I didn’t bring my camera, but suffice to say I spent quite some time examining their collection.

They have a ton. There’s a quite big selection of all kinds of different buttons displayed on part of the wall, and then, just when you think you’ve become saturated, you discover more. There are probably 60+ little wooden drawers, all containing buttons. Some of the drawers have been further subdivided, and others are a free-for-all of either lots of the same buttons or an assortment of vintage buttons, and really, it’s just a big, crazy selection.

While I was perusing, I overheard a woman next to me talking about needing to find “owl eyes” and, when I asked, sure enough she was knitting Kate Davies’ “Owlet” for her adorable little daughter. She looked both thankful and a little aghast when I explained that all the little wooden drawers were also filled with buttons, and I left because I saw what she found, but I’m sure she found something.

Anyway, I found a few things, and I’ve narrowed it down to (I think) three choices. I haven’t made up my mind, so if you’re feeling opinionated, please, please weigh in.

A:

These are .5cm larger than the size Veera calls for, but I like them and think that’s not a big difference, so they’re included.

B:

Black, possibly wooden, octagons. They’re the required 2 cm.

C:

These are my ‘artfully mismatched’ selection. They’re vintage, and both the same size and iridescent style, only in slightly different shades. They’re also 2 cm.

And, in case you’d like to see them all together to better make your choice, here:

I don’t know if this makes it easier or harder.

Thoughts?

And then I ripped

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So, remember when I was all “cautiously optimistic” about finishing Buckwheat before the end of the Euro? Yeah. Yesterday I tried it on and it turns out that that nagging little voice that had been telling me it was going to be way too short, well, that voice was right. Way right. I was just about to start the short-rows on the front/back and thought to myself, hey, maybe I’ll just pull this on and see how it’s going. As it turns out, if my armpits were where my bra band is, everything would be fine, but they aren’t, so it’s tricky.

Here’s where I was when I decided to try it on…

For about three seconds I contemplated just finishing and then trying to block it out, but honestly, that would be dumb. I want to wear this sweater. I love the colour, I’m liking the fabric this knit is creating, and I will be really ticked if, at the end, I can’t wear it.

…and, not I’m back down here again.

So, yesterday, right before leaving for work, I tore it back to where I divided for front and back. Now I have to pick up all the stitches from my holders and figure out what I’m going to do. I think the problem is less with Veera’s pattern and more that it seems very few designers know what to do about breasts. I am chesty. It’s true. I had to measure myself for a bridesmaid dress this week and discovered that there’s actually an easy 8-inch difference between my bust and waist measurements, which is fine, and I’m sure not crazy unusual. The thing is, though, that generally when things get larger they get wider, but not longer. That means the extra surface area of my chest is not really being taken into account; yes, bigger breasts mean more width, but they generally also mean that, when you’re talking about a garment that isn’t meant to fit as a tent, there needs to be more length allowed.

As far as Buckwheat is concerned, there is a little more length allowed for the bottom, which is good, but for me there also needs to be more length in the chest. As it stands, the pattern says to knit 3 inches past the top of the waist shaping, then divide for front and back. In my case, I’m going to need about 7 inches past the waist shaping. I’m also debating adding some stitches to the front of the sweater, just so it doesn’t pull over my chest (not that it would be too tight, but I’d like the texture to remain the same throughout).

Anyway, I will let you know how it goes… In the meantime, have any advice? Have any of you run into similar, er, busty problem with sweaters? How did you fix them?

Edited to add: I tried it on again after taking the stitches off the stitch holder and have decided I definitely do not need any more. In fact, despite the fact that I’m knitting at a slightly tighter gauge than indicated, it might be a sort of loose, comfy, drapey sweater. Thus, just more length, not more width, do deal with the bust issues.

Yarn accident

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Since I started knitting a little over a year and a half ago (oh sure, I learned when I was 8, but I’m not counting that) I have been accumulating a stash. This has absolutely not been by design. When I was first learning and heard/read stories about knitters with entire closets or even rooms dedicated to yarn, I was astounded. Not because I think it’s a waste of space (no one with as many books as I have could cast aspersions on anyone else’s use of space), but simply because I couldn’t imagine buying that much yarn without having a plan to use it.

Fleece Artist Merino 2/6 in Blackberry

That, of course, was where I was wrong. At least in my case, I almost always have some sort of plan in the back of my head when I buy yarn. Sometimes it’s something really specific, sometimes it’s a little looser, but usually I have an idea in there lurking and then I see the yarn and the two come together and, bam, purchase. Sometimes, I’ll admit, I’m just enchanted by the colour, but so far, that’s more the exception than the rule.

Fleece Artist Merino 2/6 in Nova Scotia

Still, I’ve managed to accumulate a little stash. It isn’t huge, but it’s there, and I could happily knit from it for months (I am a slowish knitter, which helps). It was all going well too, until a couple of weeks ago when I had what might be called a yarn accident. I was at work, just browsing the Internet during some downtime, when I stumbled across Colorsong Yarn (warning: very tempting site), purveyors of Fleece Artist and Hand Maiden yarns. I should have known I was sunk. I am a sucker for both gorgeous colours and things tied to Nova Scotia (my home province), and these dyers are a double whammy.

Fleece Artist BFL socks in Blomidon

I thought, at first, that I was just going to look. And I did. I looked and looked and looked. But I didn’t buy anything. Instead, I tucked a few colourways into my memory and left the site before anything dangerous happened. When I was still thinking about it the next day, I knew I was in trouble. I thought that, maybe like a food craving, just having another look would satisfy me, but no. Instead, that little look resulted in me buying five skeins of Fleece Artist sock yarn (three BFL sock, two Merino fingering) – after all, with shipping costs, you have to make it worth it, right?

Fleece Artist BFL sock in Spruce

I almost never shop online. Sometimes I buy books online that I can’t find in my local independent bookshop, but generally, I avoid Internet shopping for two big reasons: 1) I like to support local businesses, and 2) I can’t really tell how much I’m getting. I know that sounds silly, but I’m serious. Five skeins of sock yarn on the Internet? Nothing. Five skeins of sock yarn when I’m in my LYS and all I have to put my purchase in is my purse because I’m on my bike and a bag won’t do? Too much – I’ll hem and haw and then whittle my choice down to one (or, maybe, two).

Fleece Artist BFL sock in Seafoam

The package arrived on Friday, and even though I’ve been feeling a little guilty about the purchase, the excitement I felt when I saw it made me feel like I’d done the right thing. I cannot wait to knit these into things (probably socks, who are we kidding) that will show off their gorgeous colours (but not until the sweater is done; I’m standing firm). Yarn accident, yes, but no regrets (yet).

The whole haul. Sigh.